THE BLIND CLAIM

THE WOLF WHO SLIPPED INTO THE DARK

Morris’s final words, “Her freedom or her eyes” hung in the shattered chamber like poison suspended in the air. No one breathed. No one moved. Even the torches flickered as if afraid of what had been spoken.

Zoro’s grip on Samantha tightened, as though Morris had already reached for her.

Samantha felt Zoro’s heartbeat, wild, conflicted, furious, pounding under her fingertips. A king’s heart, bending in a way she wasn’t sure was possible.

“Zoro…” she whispered, sensing the storm inside him. “Don’t listen to him. He lies.”

But did he?

Her voice broke, betraying the truth she feared:

She wanted to believe Morris.

She needed to hope there was a way out of the darkness.

Morris saw that tiny tremble in her voice and smiled like a serpent tasting victory.

“You see?” he whispered. “She wants to know the truth. She wants the light back.”

“Enough,” Zoro growled, low, lethal, vibrating the floor beneath them.

Before he could strike again, Morris slammed his fist into the ground. A shockwave burst outward, cracking stone, throwing furniture aside, knocking Samantha off-balance.

Zoro reached for her, but in doing so,

Morris slipped away.

Not through a door.

Not through the hall.

Through shadows.

A portal, dark, swirling, forbidden magic, opened behind him. The kind used only by exiled witches and wolves too dangerous to remain in any pack.

“MORRIS!” Zoro lunged

But the portal closed with a snap of cold air.

The enemy vanished. The monster escaped.

Silence.

Then the fortress erupted into alarmed shouting.

“Breach!”

“Seal the east wing!”

“Alpha King, injuries in the lower halls!”

“He escaped detection, he used forbidden tunneling magic!”

Zoro ignored all of it.

He turned to Samantha.

She was on her knees, palms flat against the floor, shaking from the echo of the shockwave. He dropped beside her, lifting her gently.

“Samantha. Talk to me.”

She swallowed, voice barely audible. “He… he got away.”

Zoro breathed out slowly, trying to center himself, trying not to tear walls apart in rage. His anger churned beneath his skin, hot and molten.

But her trembling… that undid him.

He cupped her face carefully, thumbs brushing her cheekbones. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” she whispered, though her voice trembled. “But you… you almost killed him.”

“I should have,” Zoro hissed. “But you stopped me.”

“I couldn’t let you become him.”

He paused. The words cut deeper than any wound Morris managed to inflict.

Become him.

Become a monster.

Become someone she feared.

He lowered his forehead to hers, breath warm against her lips. “I will never be him.”

Her breath caught.

The intimacy of the moment wrapped around them like silk, slow and dangerous. His hands warmed her face, holding her as if she were the only thing keeping him tethered to sanity.

“Promise me,” she whispered. “Because he already stole enough of me. I don't want to lose more.”

“You won’t.” His voice shook with the promise. “Not while I still breathe.”

Her fingers curled into his shirt.

She wanted to believe him.

She wanted to trust him.

And she hated that she could feel herself falling toward him, blind but not blind at all.

A king she shouldn’t want.

A savior she shouldn’t touch.

A heart she shouldn’t feel beating for her.

But she did.

Zoro carried her to her bed, setting her down gently before turning to the war room’s doorway. She heard him stop, felt him looking at her like he wasn’t ready to walk away.

“Rest,” he whispered.

“Stay,” she breathed before she could stop herself.

He froze.

And she felt heat rise in her cheeks. “I just… I don’t want to be alone right now.”

He exhaled sharply. “Then I’m not going anywhere.”

He moved back to her side and sat on the edge of the bed. She felt the mattress dip under his weight, his warmth wrapping around her like a cloak.

“Zoro… what Morris said about my eyes…”

“It’s a trap,” Zoro said instantly.

“Maybe,” she whispered. “But what if it isn’t?”

Zoro turned toward her. She felt the shift of air, the way his presence leaned closer. “You would risk yourself for that?”

“Wouldn’t you?” He paused.

Her blindness was a cage she pretended wasn’t suffocating her. But she longed for a face to place with his voice. For color. For light. For freedom.

And he knew it.

“Samantha…” he whispered, voice shaking now not with anger, but something deeper. “If I could give you your sight, I would tear out my own eyes to do it.”

Her lips parted, heart flipping inside her chest.

“Don’t say things like that,” she breathed, “unless you mean them.”

“I do.”

He took her hand.

He placed it over his heart.

“You feel that?” he whispered. “That’s not a king speaking. That’s a man.”

A man whose heartbeat told the truth she couldn’t see.

Her cheeks warmed. Her breath stuttered. And some invisible, forbidden thread pulled her toward him.

“Zoro…”

But before anything more could bloom between them, thunder crashed outside the window—unnatural, heavy, echoing with ancient magic.

Zoro stiffened. “He’s not running,” he growled. “He’s planning.”

Samantha clutched his hand. “What does that mean?”

“It means Morris didn’t escape to survive,” Zoro said darkly. “He escaped to prepare.”

A knock echoed sharply on the door.

“Enter,” Zoro barked.

A guard rushed in, breathless. “Alpha King, he left something outside the fortress wall.”

Zoro rose instantly, but Samantha’s hand shot out, catching his wrist.

“Don’t leave me here.”

He turned, hearing not fear in her voice—

but instinct.

Something inside her sensed danger.

He leaned close again, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You’re coming with me.”

He lifted her again, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling the strength of him, the protectiveness, the heat that made her pulse stutter.

Together, they moved through the fortress halls, guards parting before them.

Outside, under the moonlight, a box sat on the ground.

Small.

Black.

Dripping blood.

Zoro set Samantha on her feet but kept her anchored against him, his arm firm around her waist.

He approached the box carefully. The scent hit him instantly, feral, rotten, familiar.

Morris.

With a snarl, Zoro flipped the lid.

Samantha heard his sharp inhale.

“What is it?” she whispered.

Zoro didn’t answer right away.

Inside the box lay…

a single wolf’s eye.

Silver. Unblinking.

Attached to a strip of flesh marked with a familiar scar.

Morris’s voice floated on the wind—too clear, too calm, too close.

“One eye for one eye, Zoro,” he whispered from the darkness.

Samantha gasped, clutching Zoro’s chest.

Zoro’s jaw tightened.

His eyes burned with fury.

His voice lowered to a deadly whisper.

“He marked the beginning of war.”

But Samantha

Samantha heard something else beneath the wind.

A breath.

A whisper.

A familiar voice inches behind them.

“…I’m coming back for you, my love.”

Zoro spun around…

too late.

The shadows swallowed the voice.

Samantha trembled violently.

And Zoro pulled her into his arms, promising through clenched teeth:

“I will kill him before he touches you again.”

The night answered with a howl...

Half warning.

Half omen.

And entirely the beginning of something darker.